Think on These Things

Krishnamurti argues that the root of human conflict and social deterioration lies in the conditioned mind—the mind shaped by ambition, fear, tradition, and the pursuit of ideals. The book rejects the assumption that external reform, political revolution, or the following of authority can bring about fundamental change. Instead, it insists that transformation must begin with the individual's direct observation of 'what is,' without the distorting lens of what 'should be.' This observation is not a method to be practiced but a choiceless awareness in which the mind sees its own conditioning and, in that seeing, ceases to be bound by it. Freedom is thus not a future achievement but an immediate fact of perception.

Choiceless awareness is Krishnamurti's term for a state of observation in which the mind watches without selecting, judging, or condemning. It is not concentration, which implies an effort to focus on one thing and exclude others; nor is it a discipline to be cultivated through practice, which would presuppose a goal and a self that strives toward it. In the book's dialogues, Krishnamurti repeatedly returns to the distinction between the observer and the observed: as long as there is an observer who wants to change what is observed, there is conflict. Choiceless awareness arises when this division collapses, when the mind simply sees its own movement—envy, fear, ambition—without naming or resisting it. Out of this seeing comes a transformation that effort could never produce.

The book's origin in talks to students, teachers, and parents in India is evident in its form. Each chapter typically begins with a question posed by a student or a teacher—about fear, jealousy, ambition, or the meaning of education—and Krishnamurti responds not with a doctrine but with an invitation to inquire together. The editor's note describes the material as originally presented in this format, and the dialogues retain their conversational, probing quality . This origin explains why the book avoids systematic exposition: it is not a treatise but a series of experiments in shared attention, where the reader is invited to participate in the inquiry rather than receive conclusions. The result is more accessible than Krishnamurti's more formal works, though the underlying insights are the same.

The opening chapter, 'The Function of Education,' sets the tone for the book. Krishnamurti argues that education as it is practiced—aimed at producing efficient workers, conformists, or achievers—conditions the mind and perpetuates conflict. The true function of education, he insists, is to help the individual discover freedom, which means understanding one's own conditioning and the ways in which fear and ambition distort perception. This theme runs through the book and connects it to Krishnamurti's broader educational work, including the schools he founded in India, England, and the United States. The book is not a manual for teachers but a challenge to the assumptions underlying all education: that the young must be shaped according to a pattern, and that knowledge alone constitutes intelligence.

The book was edited by D. Rajagopal, Krishnamurti's longtime associate and editor, and first published by Harper & Row in 1964 . Rajagopal's editorial role was significant: he selected and arranged the talks, shaping them into the book's twenty-chapter structure, and the volume's coherence is as much editorial as it is authorial. The book has been reissued many times, including a HarperCollins paperback in 1989 and a Jaico edition in 2024 . Its enduring popularity is reflected in the range of editions and translations, though readers should note that the editor's mediation means the book is not a verbatim transcript of Krishnamurti's talks but a curated presentation of them.

A common misreading takes Krishnamurti's rejection of authority and ideals as a counsel of passivity or amorality—as if he were saying that one should simply accept whatever is and make no effort. This misreads the nature of choiceless awareness. Krishnamurti does not advocate inaction; he advocates action that arises from clear seeing rather than from the dictates of a conditioned mind. The rejection of ideals is not a rejection of values but a recognition that the pursuit of an ideal—of what 'should be'—diverts attention from what is, and that this diversion is itself a form of violence. The book's challenge is more demanding than conventional morality: it asks for an attention so total that the mind ceases to be the prisoner of its own past, and from that attention, right action is said to follow without effort or prescription.